Alexandria Holmes The Detective's Daughter
by AlexHolmes
Summary: Alexandria Holmes, the daughter of Irene Adler and Sherlock Holmes has had to move to England with her father after her mother disappears at her own doing. Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, even though it would be awesome if I did. Also, I'm new to this, so bear with me. :)
1. Chapter 1: Alexandria Holmes

**Author's Note: Hello and welcome to my first fanfic ever! I hope that you enjoy reading it as much as I have enjoyed writing it. This story is to be an introduction to the life of Alexandria Holmes, the consulting detectives daughter. I don't want to give away too much though. :) Do enjoy and please review! I will love you forever if you do!**

**Disclaimer: No matter how baldly I wish to own Sherlock, I do not. **

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**Chapter 1: Alexandria Holmes**

I'm not sure when it was that I realized that I was not like most children. It wasn't the fact that I only lived with my mum, or that my mum worked nights and so I had a nanny for the first 5 years of my life. It wasn't that I had no idea who my dad was, other than a few letters or gifts here or there signed with only a scribbled SH. It wasn't that I had absolutely no family whatsoever. These things were not uncommon in the life of a child living in New York City. It was the fact that I was clever, more so than most children my age. I do remember teaching myself to read at the age of three.

My mother had just returned home from work at around 8 in the morning. Of course she was exhausted. I had asked her to read to me from one of my favorite books, The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe. She had told me no, and then walked into the kitchen to make some coffee. I was a stubborn child, still am I suppose, and I did not like that answer. So I decided to climb the bookshelf in order to retrieve the book myself. When I had reached the top of the book shelf, I grabbed the book, but I accidentally knocked over a small statue of an elephant which was by feet. It clanged as it hit the ground and my mother walked back into our small apartment living room.

"Alexandria Hamish Holmes!" She scolded and she ran over to pull me down. "Do not ever do that again! Do you hear me?" She sat down with me in the rocking chair which was placed next to the book case. I held up the book.

"Please, please, please, read to me mommy?" I asked turning to look at her, my silver blue eyes pleading. My mother sighed and took the book from me.

"Alright," she said tiredly. "But just one chapter, and then its nap-time." I snuggled into her and listened to her read. As she read I listened to her voice fade from the New York accent she purposefully employed during the night back into her British accent. Oh how I loved her real accent. I was never sure why, but listening to it always made me feel at peace more than anything else. I listened as her words came slower and watched as her eyes grew heavy and fluttered to a close. Soon the chair stopped rocking and I knew that my mother had fallen asleep. I also knew, from previous experience that if I woke her up now, I'd be forced to go take a nap myself, and that was not on my list of things which I wanted to do. I also noticed that I had not received my one chapter that I had been promised. I peered at the letters which formed words on the little page and something clicked.

I pointed to a word and started to sound it out. "D-d-o y-you k-now your way f-from here, d-a-u-gh-t-e-r, daughter of eve? said Tumnus." I felt my mother shift under me but I was so interested in this new code that I paid her no attention. "L-lucy l-looked very hard b-e-t-w-een, between the trees and," I heard my mother gasp and looked up to see surprise in her eyes. "What's wrong mummy?" I asked her.

I watched my mother's face as she once again gained composure and replied smoothly. "Nothing darling. What you just did, can you do that again?" She asked, curiosity evident on her features.

"You mean read? I just learnt it mummy!" I continued to read until the end of the chapter, stumbling through the words at first but gaining speed and efficiency as I did so. When I had finished I looked up to my mother brimming with pride. I saw a look of incredulity on her face before she broke into a huge smile.

"You are so clever, Lexie." She told me and then said under her breath "Just like your father." She then pulled out her phone and proceeded to text furiously on it. This happened quite a lot growing up. I would do something that I thought was normal, my mother would tell me how clever I was, just like my father, and then she would text someone on her phone, as I got older, I found out that it was my father whom she was texting. The mysterious SH.

I never talked with my father. The only contact that I ever received from him was in a few letters and gifts. For my 5th birthday he sent me a Ragdoll kitten after I had successfully memorized every cat breed in the world and had decided upon the Ragdoll as my favorite. Dolly showed up with a red bow tied around her neck with a note saying "Take care of her- SH." I knew that whoever SH was, he was proud of my cleverness. My mother was too. However that was where it ended.

I suppose that I really found out that I was different when I started school. My mum had signed me up for kindergarten at a local elementary school. I remember thinking how boring it was, as the teacher was only interested in teaching us our alphabet and how to count. Well, I already knew that. I could already multiply number in my head by the time kindergarten started, and quite honestly I was not a fan of school. So, my boredom got the better of me, and I decided to try an experiment. I placed a dead frog into my teacher's microwave to see what would happen. (It blew up by the way, and created a horrid mess.) Needless to say after only 2 weeks of kindergarten I was expelled. This happened quite frequently. I was put into a new school and then found some way to be expelled. I actually kind of liked to be able to just stay home. I felt that I learned much more that way anyways. I spent kindergarten through half of my 2nd grade year going from school to school until after my 14th school no other public school would take me. My name would turn a seasoned teacher into a crying child. I was quite proud of my accomplishments. My mother on the other hand was not.

I was sitting in my room, trying to listen to my mother's conversation with someone on the phone. I could tell that it was a man's voice, but nothing more. She was explaining my newest experiment, I had decided to see what would happen if I poured melted Crisco on the slide, and since it was only April and the highest the temperature would rise was to about 60 degrees Fahrenheit if I was lucky, it had taken quite a large amount of preparing. My experiment ended with two children with broken bones and a very angry Principal. I found it to be hilarious. Apparently the man on the other line of the phone thought it was as well because I could hear him laughing.

"Sherlock!" I heard my mother scold. "This is no laughing matter! Two children were hurt and Lexie was expelled again! No other public school will take her and I've not enough money to afford a private one. Then again I'm not even sure that any private school would take her. She is gaining quite a reputation here. If we don't get this figured out soon..." There was a pause and I heard muffled talking on the other end. "Exactly. You know, this wouldn't be so hard if she wasn't so bloody clever like you."

I knew then that she was talking to my father. That was the first time I had heard his name. Sherlock. SH. Sherlock Holmes. I pulled my kindle fire out of my night stand and turned it on, immediately searching up Sherlock Holmes on the internet. He was a detective. And he wore a funny hat apparently. I clicked on a website titled The Science of Deduction and scrolled through his many posts. Some of them were very odd, but some of them interesting. My mother was right, he was clever. I clicked on his photo and was surprised to see that I looked a lot like him. I had his silvery blue eyes, his unruly hair, eyebrows and his nose. I stared at his picture until I heard footsteps coming near my door. I quickly exited out of the window, turned off my kindle fire and placed into my table drawer. I laid down and covered my head with my blankets. I wasn't sure why, but I didn't want my mother to know that I knew who my father was. It had always seemed to be a taboo subject. She would always just reply with "All that you need to know is that he loves you very much, and it is safer this way." Then she would change the subject. I wasn't sure why I wasn't supposed to know, but now I did and I was not going to let anyone take it from me.

I heard my bedroom door open and my mother walked in. "Lexie honey," she said softly. "I'm not mad anymore. I've calmed down. I do need to talk to you though." She flipped on my light and sat down on my bed near my feet. "Your father is wiring the money for you to go to a private school." I sat up quickly, dislodging Dolly who had climbed onto my stomach.

"No!" I exclaimed. "Please mummy, please. I hate school. It's boring!" I threw myself back onto the bed and my mother sighed in exasperation.

"Lexie, you have to go to school. It's the law. Now that we have the money we can send you to a gifted school. They will make sure that you are challenged so it's not as boring." I sat up slowly, pulling the blanket off of my head.

"But the kids still won't like me. They never do. They all think I'm weird. Maybe I am." I said sadly. My mother reached for me and pulled me into her lap.

"You aren't weird honey. You're clever." She said and I finished her last words with her "Just like my father." I sighed.


	2. Chapter 2: Summertime Boredom

Chapter 2: Summertime Boredom

My mother was not able to enroll me in a private school until the following year as it was almost summer time. I spent my summer with my Nanny Alicia who dragged me to play dates with other children my age, even though it was more for her than it was for me. Most of the children did not like me for some reason. I wasn't sure why. Then again maybe it was because they were in the kindergarten class that I had blown up a frog in… I thought it was cool. I guess they didn't. In any case I spent most of those play dates playing on my own until I finally threw a fit and Alicia stopped making me go. By the time August rolled around I was bored out of my mind. I had almost lit the apartment on fire three times and Alicia quit. She told my mother that she couldn't handle me anymore. Since I was almost 8, and my mother could not find anyone else to take me, she left me home alone more often than not when she went to work. I was told not to leave the apartment for any reason, and my mother left me with a phone to reach her if I needed anything. She asked the next door neighbor Helen to watch out for me, Helen only agreeing because she had just moved in and not yet heard about me. I usually was pretty good then, besides painting my room and staying up much too late watching shows on Netflix.

On August 7th I turned 8. I received a violin from my father. Always as before it was nicely wrapped with a red ribbon and the letters SH signed on a small card. This time though, I knew what the letters stood for, and I knew why he sent me a violin. He played violin. I knew this because on those long nights when mom was at work, I would spend hours poring over his website. When I had read everything possible and even figured out the answer to two of the secret codes he had placed up, I found Dr. John Watson's website. He was my father's friend who had lived with him for quite some time. He always wrote of the most interesting adventures and I always looked forward to any new posts that he would write. It made me feel like I actually knew something of my father.

When I opened the violin I fingered the strings and looked it over carefully. "It's beautiful." I said looking up to my mother. "Will I ever get to meet my dad?" I asked her, knowing that she would of course try to change the subject.

My mother sighed. "Honey, we've been through this. You not knowing him, it's for your safety. It really is. Now, how about we go out for some ice cream to celebrate?"


	3. Chapter 3: A New School

Chapter 3: A New School

After receiving my violin, my mother signed me up for violin lessons and shortly thereafter school started. My new school did in fact challenge me. I had separate classes for each subject, and I actually made a friend in my geography class. Her name was Samantha, and she was actually clever, even if not as clever as me. Samantha was two years my senior and she too was taking violin classes. We would practice together after school, oftentimes visiting each other at our houses. My mother was quite pleased that I had finally found a friend, and truth be told I was as well.

One fateful October day while at school , Samantha and I went into the library. "I want to show you something I've never shown anyone before. And it's a secret." I told her looking into her eyes. I wasn't 100% sure that she could keep a secret, but I couldn't keep it to myself any longer. I logged onto a computer and googled the name Sherlock Holmes. I clicked on John's Blog and on the picture he had of my father on the side column in his funny hat. "That's my dad." I whispered. It wasn't the first time I said this out loud, but it was the first time I had ever said it where someone could hear me. I glanced around the library cautiously then looked into my friends face.

"No way." She said, her eyes emitting excited disbelief. "Are you sure?" I nodded. "That is so awesome!" She said loudly. The librarian and I both shushed her.

"Remember", I said "It's a secret." She nodded her head and we explored through the website, I showed her some of my favorite cases and we giggled about what it would be like to meet my father.

"Have you ever e-mailed him?" Sam asked, pulling me out of my thoughts.

"What?" I asked. The thought had never crossed my mind. I wasn't supposed to know that he existed. It was a secret.

"E-mail? You know. He has a website too. You could e-mail him. Or John. Get to know him?" She asked me.

Before I could respond sniveling Jake came over and looked at the computer screen. "Why would you want to e-mail him?" He asked sneering down his long pointy nose. "He's not even real!" He pushed up his glasses and sniffed, long and loud.

"He is too!" Sammy shouted at him. She received a glare from the librarian and myself. Before I could stop her she went on "In fact, he's Lexie's dad!" She flashed a bright smile at him until he started laughing so hard that he snorted.

"That is not her dad!" He yelled still laughing. Just then the librarian walked over and kicked all three of us out of the library. As soon as we had left the library the bell rang and we walked into our Geography class that we all three had together.

In the 10 minutes before our class ended, Mr. Shetland was called out into the hallway by a parent. Jake used this time to further his making fun of me. "Hey, guess what guys!" He called out to the class. "Lexie thinks her dad is Sherlock Holmes!" I saw my classmates mouths drop open in surprise. Some of them looked as if they might believe it, but most of them looked on in disbelief and joined in with Jake's snorting laughter.

"He is!" Sammy yelled glaring at him.

I felt my face heat up as started to blush, however the embarrassment turned to anger when Jake glared and said, "Yeah right Sammy! Sherlock Holmes isn't real. And Lexie doesn't even have a dad! She's illegitimate." He said with disgust in his voice.

Before I could stop myself my words bubbled out of my mouth, just as Mr. Shetland and the parent entered the room. "Oh yeah? Well at least my dad isn't sleeping with my nanny behind my mom's back!"

I heard two very distinct gasps coming from the front of the room amid the other noise which my retort produced. One was Mr. Shetland, and the other Mrs. Castern, Jake's mother. I instantly realized that I had made a mistake. I hoped that this didn't get me expelled. This was the best school I had been to yet. However after seeing the look of embarrassment on sniveling Jake's face, I knew that no matter what happened, it was worth it.

After an hour in the principal's office and an hour bus ride home, I got off with only a week of suspension and the requirement of writing Mrs. Castern an apology letter. I was brimming with satisfaction when I got home. That was, until I had to tell my mother the whole story.


	4. Chapter 4:Not What I Would Have Expected

Chapter 4: Not What I Would Have Expected

My mother sat in silence, her face completely blank as I told her the story. Seeing her so quiet worried me more than if she had been livid; angry mum I could handle, this quiet and composed mum that I could not read, that worried me. After I had finished my tale, we sat there in agonizing quiet for 10 minutes before she spoke.

"How did you figure out who your father was?" She asked quietly. I reminded her of the phone call from when she received my tuition money. She closed her eyes and sighed. Without opening her eyes she asked "How many people have you told?"

I bit my lip. "Well… technically I only told Sammy. But then Jake found out… and now I guess the whole school probably knows." Then I thought for a minute. "Wait. Why does it matter? Why does it have to be a secret?" I questioned.

My mother sat quietly for a moment before she opened her eyes. For a brief moment I thought I saw sadness and possibly even fear pass through them before she composed herself once again.

"Alexandria, before you were born, I did some things, and… I had ownership of some things which many people wanted. Keeping these things is what kept me safe. When I met your father, I gave him these things to keep hold of, but I was in the wrong to have them and eventually your father gave them over to his brother, and my safety was gone. It was shortly thereafter that I found out I was pregnant with you. I called your father and he helped me to fake my death in order to be safe and to keep you safe. My real name is Irene Adler. And Sherlock Holmes is your father." She stopped a moment, letting it all sink in before continuing. "After you were born, the time came that your father had to fake his death for a spell as well. We lived with him for around a year and a half, running all over the globe on different cases. We realized however that this was no life for you, and so Sherlock helped us get this apartment in New York City, and we've been here ever since. I took a false identity and then he went to the Middle East on another case until London needed him again. Of course no one could know about our connection with your father for fear of my being discovered, and so it was decided that we would tell no one. Not even you."

We sat in silence for a few moments as all of this sank in. Dolly wandered over to me and lay at my feet. I absent mindedly stroked her until something hit me. I stood up quickly, my eyes huge. "Wait! Mum! Now people know. Does that mean… I mean are we…" My voice trailed off and I bit my lip again, watching her closely for any signs of fear but her mask of composure stood strong.

She stood up and walked back to her bedroom smoothly. "If you would please excuse me a moment Lexie, I need to make a call." She said as she shut her door behind her. I picked up Dolly and walked over to the window and looked down at all of the people walking past our street, looking for anything out of the ordinary. I of course, saw nothing. After what felt like forever my mother came back out with my pink suit case, Dolly's matching carrier and my backpack. "Pack everything that is important to you." She said simply and walked back into her room to do the same.


	5. Chapter 5: The Bolt Hole

Chapter 5: The Bolt Hole

Within one hour I had managed to pack most all of my stuff. I pulled my bags out into the living and threw myself onto the couch and let my gaze slide to the bookshelf. "Mum!" I called. "I'm done!" She came out toting her own luggage.

"Good." She replied. "Put Dolly in her crate and get your jacket and boots on. We leave in 5 minutes." My mother walked back to her room for a minute. By the time she came back out I was in my coat, scarf and boots with Dolly and all of my things ready. My mother put on her jacket as well and we walked out of our apartment and into the elevator.

When we reached the street there was a cab waiting. The cabbie got out, placed our bags save for Dolly in the trunk, and drove off without mum even telling him where to go. We drove all night, stopping for gas twice before we reached a small run down hotel at 5am. The neon sign overhead had seen better days and only read Hot. The cab pulled in and the cabby got out, walking into the office. I looked at my mum, hoping for an answer but I only received a forced smile on top of her mask of composure. The cabbie came out again and drove around to the back of the hotel. We got out and walked into the hotel with the cabbie trailing behind us, carrying our bags.

I followed my mum to a room marked Staff Only, and was surprised to see her walk inside. I quickly followed, the cabbie not far behind. When the Staff Only door was shut, my mother walked over to a book shelf and pushed it to the right, revealing an old door. She opened up the door and I followed her into the new room. Only for some reason, I felt as if I had been there before.

It was small with an old looking red couch seated in front of an ancient TV with rabbit ear antennae's on top. In the area behind the couch there was a whole wall lined with bookshelves and a rocking chair in the corner. Further in there were two wooden doors and an archway. Through the archway I could see a small stove and even without looking I knew that the door to the left of the archway would be the bathroom and the door to the right would be the bedroom. I looked up to my mother who was taking the bags from the Cabbie.

"Thank you Grimmer." I heard her tell the cabbie as he shut the door behind him when he left. I heard the bookcase sliding against its hinges outside the door and knew that it should scare me at least a little, but for some reason it felt familiar.

"Mum?" I asked looking around again. "I've been here before." I told her looking up to her again.

She smiled the first real smile that I had seen since getting suspended. "Yes." She said "This is where we lived while your father found us an apartment."

I looked around again, trying to remember something- anything about my father but I could not. My mother pulled out a litter box from a bag I had not noticed before and walked into the bathroom. In a minute she came back out and told me "You can let Dolly out now" as she waked into the kitchen.

I opened Dolly's crate and took her out. However instead of letting her go I held on tightly to her soft form while I sat on the couch until I drifted off to sleep. I was barely awake as my mother carried me into the bedroom and laid me on the bed. "I love you forever." She whispered to me.

"I love you too mummy." I said before I fell back to sleep.

When I awoke, I had completely forgotten where I was. I sat up quickly, confused by the room which I laid in. It wasn't really decorated. The walls were a greyish color and there was a book case over flowing with books to the left of the bed. On the right there was a large trunk, on top of which sat my pink suitcase and backpack. Suddenly it all came back to me. My suspension. Leaving my home. Driving all night. This funny yet familiar hiding place. I pushed the covers off of me and quietly walked out of the room.

I was surprised to not see my mother in the living room. I peeked quickly into the bathroom and the kitchen, seeing that she was in neither of those rooms as well. The clock on the stove surprised me as well. It read 3 o'clock. Surely that meant in the afternoon, but how was I supposed to know for sure? There were no windows in this place. I walked into the kitchen to inspect a note that I had seen hung up on the fridge. It was from my mother. I picked it up and read the note aloud.

My dear Lexie,

I had to go out for a bit. Do not worry, I am sure that your father will be there soon. I hope that I will return before you wake, but if I do not please show your father this note.

I love you forever,

Love mummy

I sat the note down and rummaged through the cupboards trying to find food. All of the boxes were covered with dust, so I kept looking. I opened the fridge but there wasn't any food inside. Finally in a drawer I found a candy bar. I knew that mummy would not be happy with my choice, but I really wanted that candy bar, and she wasn't here. I ripped it open, took a bite and walked back into the living room.

I sat down on the couch, found the remote and almost turned on the TV when I heard talking coming from outside. It wasn't my mum. It was two men. I listened closely, recognizing the voice of the Cabbie. There was another man out there with him. For some reason his voice sounded familiar too, but I couldn't place it. I needed to be able to hear better. I looked around and grabbed a water glass that was sitting on the end table by the couch. I picked it, tossed the water on a fake tree that was in the corner and placed the glass to the door and my ear to the glass.

"What do you mean you didn't know she left?" I heard the familiar voice ask. I heard a muffled reply belonging to the cabbie and then "You were supposed to be guarding the door. Not sleeping. Idiot. No. Shut up. Let me think." I heard the voice come closer and then I heard nothing for a moment. I was just about to give up when I heard the bookcase sliding open. I dropped the cup, it shattering into a million pieces at my feet and then I heard the bookcase stop. Everything was very quiet for a moment and then I saw the door knob turn. I turned and ran back to the bedroom, glass cutting up my feet, and dove under the bed. A part of me felt ridiculous, like I could trust the voice, but the other part was scared-stiff and currently that part was winning. I listened as the door scraped over the glass and froze solid even though my feet like they were on fire with all of the cuts I'd received from the glass. I was pretty sure that I even had a few pieces stuck in my foot.

I heard boots crunching on the glass and the door sliding back over it again. I heard the voice mumble something under his breath and then heard footsteps come towards the bedroom. I closed my eyes and held my breath, hoping that he would not find me. I relaxed a little as I heard the steps walk into the kitchen. I heard a slight rustle of paper and then a few cupboard doors open and close. Then the footsteps came back to the bedroom door again, and this time they entered.

I watched as black leather shoes walked around to the side of the bed. The shoes then turned into knees with a long wool coat folding onto the ground. Next long bony hands came onto the floor followed by the face of the hat detective.


	6. Chapter 6: Sherlock Holmes

Chapter 6: Sherlock Holmes

I blinked at the pair of silver blue eyes that stared back at me. "Alex." He said "Come on out of there and let me bandage up your feet." He smiled at me and I knew I could trust him. I started to scoot out, my feet feeling like they were on fire. I sat down at the end of the bed; my legs stretched out in front of me and just stared at him. How many times had I wished that I would meet him? How many times had I longed to be able to say hello? Yet at this moment, I could do nothing but stare at him stupidly.

He scooted across the floor to where I sat and inspected my feet. "I need to take care of your feet." He told me calmly, looking into my eyes again. "I'm going to pick you up now, and take you to the kitchen."

I lifted my chin and narrowed my eyes, suddenly mad that he had never came to see me before. "I can walk." I told him coldly as I stood up using the bed for support. I tried to bite back the pain that radiated from my feet but a lone tear streamed down my face. Sherlock Holmes rolled his eyes, stood up, and picked me up completely ignoring my protests. He sat me down on the kitchen counter and turned on the light. He pulled over a chair and pulled some tweezers out of his coat pocket. I sat there and glared at him ferociously. What did he think he was doing, showing up out of nowhere and acting like he cared? He looked up at me and I saw a slight twinkle in his eyes which only made me glower more.

"I'm sorry." He said, picking up one of my small feet in his hand. "This is going to hurt." He began to pluck the pieces of glass from my feet. I bit my lip and looked up to the ceiling. I was not going to cry in front of him. I was not a baby. I was already 8 years old. However no matter how hard I tried to hold back my tears, a few slid down my cheeks, one of which landed on Sherlock's hand. He pretended not to notice and went on with pulling out the glass on the next foot.

After he had finished, he turned me to the side and stuck my feet under the faucet. I gasped at the stinging pain the water produced but managed to keep from crying. After washing my feet he dried them gently and put some Neosporin on the cuts and some large Band-Aids.

He then picked me up and carried me to the couch, disappearing into the bedroom. 5 seconds later he came out with a pair of my socks and threw them to me. "Go ahead and put those on. It will help keep the Band-Aids intact." I pulled the socks on gently, watching him disappear into the kitchen again. Dolly jumped onto the couch and into my lap. I started to pet her as she purred away in my lap.

After Sherlock did not come back out from the kitchen for a while I strained my neck to try to see him. No matter how hard I tried I couldn't see him from where I sat, and I knew that I couldn't get off the couch without stepping on the glass that was strewn about.

"Uhhhh…" I started to say, wondering what I should call him. I was still rather mad at him and did not feel like calling him dad, but I didn't know how to get his attention. Lucky for me I didn't have to as he stuck his head around the archway. I bit my lip. "Are you gonna clean up the glass?" I asked.

He looked kind of confused by my statement but then sighed and disappeared into the kitchen again returning with a broom. "You know, if you just wore shoes none of this would have happened." He muttered under his breath as he cleaned up the mess. I walked into the kitchen to grab my note and saw that it was not where I had left it on the counter. Instead it was on the table next to a lamp without a shade. I walked over to it and picked it up, re-reading my mother's words. It was now 4:30 according to the stove clock. I wondered where my mom was.

Sherlock walked in behind me and quickly snatched the note out of my hand. "Don't tamper with the evidence." He said shortly, moving to stand in front of the lamp. He flipped the lamp on and held the note up to it. Soon small brownish writing appeared in between the lines of what my mother had written to me. "Hand me a paper and pen. Top drawer to the left of the sink." He told me quickly. I stared at him for a minute before he said "Now" In a stern manner. I quickly grabbed the pen and paper and handed them to him. He started writing down a long list of letters and numbers. I stared at the letters but none of them created words. After he had finished copying down the letters he handed me the paper. "There's your note back." He said and then he started writing down the alphabet and my full name and birthday underneath, going backwards. I watched him as he started to unscramble the letters.

"Is that a cypher?" I asked him.

He looked up at me briefly, looking annoyed. "Yes." He replied simply.

"Can I try?" I asked him. He did not look up at me or make any notice of me at all. I scooted closer and pointed to a M. on the paper. "That's a G." I told him.

He sighed. "Yes I know that. Can't you see I'm busy? Go watch cartoons or something." He said never looking away from his work.

I glared at him, but walked away. I was hurt by his words and I decided that even though cyphers were cool, I did not want to be around him. I walked into the living room and turned on the TV. There wasn't anything on that I found to be interesting and so I decided that I was done with this little room. I wanted to find my mum. My dad was mean and I did not want to be around him. So I kept the TV on and tiptoed to the door, opening it slowly. The bookcase was still open and I peeked out, seeing that the Cabbie was nowhere in sight I walked into the room and quietly shut the door behind me. I opened the staff room door and peeked out. There wasn't anyone in the hallway either so I stepped out, wondering which way my mother would have went. I turned to the left and walked down the hall, running my hands across the bumpy wallpaper.

I had just rounded a corner when I heard a commotion and a voice that I knew instantly to be my father. I broke into a run and slid on a rug, crashing into the wall. It was then that I saw one of the doors were open. I darted inside, slamming the door shut behind me. I leaned up against the door, breathing hard. It was then that I took in my surroundings. The wallpaper was peeling in this room and the old lumpy queen bed was disheveled. There were clothes lying all over the room and it smelled of a sweet smoke. I heard a cough come from inside of the bathroom when suddenly the bathroom door opened. An older overweight man, wearing a stained white t-shirt and boxers stepped out with a joint hanging from his lips. He was in desperate need of a shave and his eyes were blood shot. He looked at me without moving for a moment, rubbing his eyes in incredulity.

"Well, what have we here?" He asked in a gruff voice. I stood up quickly and tried to pull the door open, when it wouldn't budge he took a step towards me and I screamed. Just then the door behind me clicked open and a hotel employee came in and grabbed my arm.

"I am terribly sorry about zee intrusion." He said in a perfect French accent. "This young child was playing, how you say, hide and seek. I've been trying to catch her and return her to her parents for quite some time. Sorry again for zee inconvenience monsieur." He pulled me out of the room and led me down the hall saying "Zee hotel is no place for playing games."

I tried to pull my hand away but his long bony hand held my small one in an iron grip. I looked closer at it and then flipped my head up to look into his face. This was no French employee. This was my father Sherlock Holmes! My eyes grew wide and he looked down and winked at me, continuing to pull me along. I followed him more willingly as we rounded the corner and was surprised to see that we did not once again enter the little room. Instead we walked through the back door to the outside and I saw once again the black cab we had ridden in the night before.


	7. Chapter 7: The Dark Building

Chapter 7: The Dark Building

Sherlock opened the door for me and I climbed in, him following behind. I looked at him, biting my lip, waiting for him to scold me for running away. Instead he pulled off his hotel hat, wiped off his fake mustache and sat with his hands steepled under his chain and his eyes closed. I watched him for a moment and then asked "Are we going to meet my mother?"

His silver blue eyes flipped open and he looked at me. However he did not answer my question, instead he asked one of his own. "Are you hungry?"

I stared at him, ready to say no when my stomach grumbled. Sherlock took that as a yes. "Take us through one of those American drive-through things." He said waving his hand. He then resumed his position with the steepled hands and closed eyes.

"Which one?" The driver asked. I stared at my father but he never replied, so I decided I would.

"Can we go to McDonald's?" I asked. Mum never took me to McDonalds. She did not like junk food. The only time I was ever allowed to have McDonalds was when I was forced to go on those blasted play dates with Alicia. I waited for my father to say no, but when no reply came I watched anxiously out my window for the golden yellow arches. My stomach grumbled again and I looked at the time on the dash. It was already 6 o'clock and the sun was basically set. No wonder I was so hungry.

When we pulled up to McDonald's I decided to push my luck. "Can we go in?" I asked longingly looking at the play structure.

"No." My father replied, not moving from his stance. I sighed and sat back as the car pulled up to the menu board.

"What d'ya want?" The driver asked.

"A Chicken McNugget Happy Meal please, with fries and chocolate milk!" I looked again at my father and said to the driver a bit quieter "and a McFlurry. M-n-M please." I knew that with my mother I'd never get away with that, but father didn't seem to care. The driver ordered my food and pulled up to the next window. I turned to my father, "Aren't you going to eat?" I asked him.

He opened one eye and looked at me. "I don't eat while I'm working. Digestion slows me down." He said and then closed his eyes again.

The driver handed back my food and I scarfed down my Chicken McNuggets and fries and started my McFlurry when we arrived at an odd building. There were no lights on the outside or inside of the dark building. "Cut the headlights." Sherlock told the driver who immediately obliged. He turned to me and looked sternly into my eyes. "I need to go inside to gather more data." He told me. "Stay here. Do not leave." Then he turned to the driver again. "Don't let her out of the car for any reason. She's clever. Don't let her fool you." He glanced back at me and said "I mean it. Stay put. The last thing I need right now is having to chase you around." With that he jumped out of the car and walked towards the dark building.

I sat there in silence with the driver for 15 minutes, me eating my food and the driver watching for the return of my father. Finally after all of my food was gone I started to get bored. What was he doing in there? And where was my mum? It was almost 7 o'clock now. She had been gone all day. I wondered if she was back at the hotel looking for me, but I knew in my heart that she wasn't. Last night when she had put me to bed, she had hugged me a little bit too tight I suddenly remembered, and I had seen a tear on her cheek. I pulled my knees up to my chest and hugged them tightly. I didn't want to think about that. I didn't want to think about any of this. I wanted to be back at my house, in my bed, cuddling with Dolly.

I picked up my toy from McDonalds, looking for a distraction. It was a small toy Nerf gun with two round discs as bullets. I pointed it at the roof of the car and shot it. The driver glared at me through the rear view mirror. I shot the window and it bounced back and hit me. I picked up my bullets and loaded my gun again. This time I shot the back of the driver's seat and he jumped and shouted out "Bloody hell! Knock 'at off, would ya?" I sat quietly for a moment before reaching to retrieve the bullet again. Then I held back out my gun and hit the rearview mirror. The foam circle bounced off and hit the drivers cap. "Knock it off you little demon." He told me, rolling down the window and throwing my circle out.

I glared at him, fingering my little gun and last bullet. I was quiet bored and tired of waiting now. Then I got an idea. "Uh-oh" I said and started to wiggle around in my seat.

The driver looked in the rearview mirror, glowering at me. "What?" He barked.

I looked at him with innocent eyes again. "I have to go potty." I said, really starting to dance around. He cussed and looked around, hoping to see my father I am sure.

"Uh. Can't you hold it?" He asked, glancing anxiously into the darkness. "There really isn't anywhere for you to go." I shook my head, doing my best to look innocent. "Bloody hell." I heard him cuss again. He got out of the car and looked around with a small flashlight. While he was doing that I tried to open my door, but it was locked. I sighed and then thought of something.

I climbed over the front seat and opened up the door. I reached out and grabbed my circle toy and went to climb into the back, but I accidentally knocked his cup over into his seat. Just as I climbed back into my seat he yanked open the door and got in. "You're gonna hafta hold it." He told me grumpily. Then a look of confusion crossed his face. "What the? Oh hell. You didn't pee in my seat did you?"

I laughed and then bit my lip. "No. But I accidentally spilt your drink. I'm sorry." I told him, unleashing the full power of my silver blue eyes on him. He cussed under his breath again and did his best to stand up in the car and mop up the mess with some napkins he had up front.

It was 7:30 when my father came back out. He opened up the car door and told the driver to drive in an out of breath voice. As we drove away there was an explosion in the building behind us. I jumped up to turn around and watch, looking at my father momentarily to see him simply sit in his usual steepled hands, eyes closed manner. Only this time, his shoulders hung a bit more and he looked almost sad. I turned around and sat down again, dropping my toy gun, no longer feeling like playing games.


	8. Chapter 8: Bad News

Chapter 8: Bad News

When we finally reached the hotel once again it was a little past 9. I got out of the car and followed Sherlock through the back door leading into the hotel; however when I started limping from the pain in my feet, Sherlock picked me up and carried me the rest of the way. I didn't argue with him, my feet were beginning to throb, especially since I still wasn't wearing any shoes. I mentally made a note to make sure to put my shoes on before I try to make another escape, if ever I should that is.

I laid my head down against his strong shoulder and closed my eyes. I was tired and I wanted my mum. But somehow I knew. I could tell; I could feel it in the hug last night, the note. Mummy was gone. My father carried me in to the little room and sat me down on the couch. He walked into the kitchen, retrieved his transcription from my mum's note and came and sat down next to me. He handed me the note and I read what he had deciphered, it said:

Dear Sherlock,

I had to go away. One of my many enemies has found me. The only way to keep Lexie safe is for me to disappear. Do not look for me. If not for me, then for our daughter. She needs you now Sherlock. You are all that she has. Remember, even though she is clever and acts mature, she is still only a child. Take good care of her. I will be in touch.

-Irene.

I read the note quietly to myself again and sighed. My feeling had been right. She was gone. And she left me with my father, Sherlock Holmes. He sat there staring at me as I read as if he was trying to understand what I was thinking. I looked up to him, took a deep breath and said. "I guess it's just you and me now." I tried to smile but failed. I tried so hard to keep from crying, but a single tear slid down my cheek. My father pulled me into his arms and held me close and the tears began to fall uncontrollably now. I took a few deep breaths trying to control myself. "Are you going to find her?" I asked him. I saw the muscles in his neck tighten ever so slightly and then relax before he spoke. "I tried to already. That's why we went to the building. She had left me another note. She is safe Alex." He sighed. "That's the best I can do for now. You are to come with me."

I thought for a moment. "Come with you… to London?" I asked him. He nodded. It could be worse. I thought to myself. I'd always wanted to go to England. I loved the accents, one of which my father had as well. I wondered if I would get one too. "I get to take Dolly too, right?" I asked him. For a moment confusion crossed his face.

"Oh. The cat. Yeah, you can bring her. Mrs. Hudson shouldn't mind too bad." I thought back to the hours I spent pouring over the websites I had found. Mrs. Hudson was the landlady where he lived. I yawned and sat back on the couch.

"When do we leave?" I asked him. He looked kind of surprised. He pulled out his phone and texted something. His phone soon vibrated and he looked back at me.

"We will leave tomorrow. We have a flight booked for 4:15pm at the Atlantic City Airport. Best go off to bed now." He said and stood up. I stood up too, ran to the bathroom and then came back out to find him lying on the couch. I started to walk to the back bedroom and then stopped.

"Uhmm… aren't you going to tuck me in?" I asked him. He sat up and looked at me blankly for a moment. I held his gaze until he stood up and followed me into the bedroom. I climbed up in the bed and he placed the blankets around me.

"Well, uhm, have good dreams." He said awkwardly and then walked back out into the living room turning off the lights. This was going to be interesting indeed.


	9. Chapter 9: Goodbye, America

Chapter 9: Goodbye America

When I awoke the next morning, I got out of bed and walked into the small living room hoping to see that it was all just a joke, and that my mother would be there making breakfast. I knew of course that that was not going to happen, but a girl can dream. Instead of my mother awake and making food, I saw my father curled up and asleep on the couch. I watched him for a moment as he slept, wondering how he felt about taking me home. Why hadn't he come to see me at all while I was growing up? Why wasn't I supposed to know who he was? And why now, that I finally did know who he is, did I have to lose my mother? I shook my head; I didn't want to think about those questions. They hurt. So instead I walked into the kitchen hoping to find some food.

I opened bare cupboards and drawers, wishing that something to eat had magically appeared overnight. Nothing had of course. I sighed and walked back into the living room looking at my father's sleeping form. The clock on the stove told me that it was already 9:30 in the morning. If it had been my mother, I would have crawled up there with her in order to wake her up. But it wasn't. It was my… my dad. The word sounded strange in my head. I sighed and looked at the closed door that led to freedom. Then I had a thought, maybe the cabbie was out there, and maybe he could get me some food again. I tiptoed over to the door and unlocked it. I pulled it open slowly but it still made a creak. I froze and glanced back at the sleeping figure on the couch, but he had flinched and nothing more, so I continued.

Much to my chagrin, the bookcase was closed. I placed my hands upon the built in handles and started to pull. I froze when I heard my father roll over and mumble "Mrs. Hudson! Must you be so loud?" As I finally got the bookcase open enough for me to slip through, I felt a hand on my shoulder. "Where are you going, Alex?" Asked a much disheveled Sherlock Holmes. His dark hair was sticking up in disarray and his eyes were bloodshot.

I looked up at him with large eyes. "I didn't want to wake you." I told him honestly. "I'm hungry and there's nothing to eat in here. I thought maybe the cabbie could get me some food…?" A look of confusion crossed his face, followed by one of annoyance.

"I just fed you." He stated plainly.

I crinkled my nose. "Nu uh. That was last night." I raised my eyebrows at him. "What's for breakfast?"

His features suddenly became unreadable and he looked around the room. "Uhm… I think the hotel has a continental breakfast. Go get dressed and we will go to that."

I quickly ran into the bedroom and threw on some jeans and a t-shirt. I changed my socks, noting that the cuts on my feet were healing nicely and then I ran back out into the living room. I saw that my father was dressed in what looked like the same suit as yesterday with a long black wool coat and a blue scarf. His hair was once again lying down and he shot me a smile as I walked out.

"Where's your hair brush?" He asked me. I looked at him with an expression of loathing and sighed. I hated brushing my hair. It was half way down my back and it had waves to it that made it tangle easily. I realized that it must look very bad as I had not brushed it yesterday either. I walked back into the bedroom and grabbed my brush out of my bag and quickly began running it through my hair. When I got to the back section the brush became stuck and I couldn't get it out. "Mum" I started to call and then remembered. My mum wouldn't be helping with my hair for a while. I couldn't believe that she had just left me.

I sat on the bed, ready to just give up when my father walked in. He took one look at my defeated form and walked over to untangle the brush from my hair. After he was able to carefully remove the brush from the knot it had made he tenderly brushed through the rest of my hair. "There." He said looking at me carefully. "Shall we go?"

When we walked into the breakfast room, my dad made a beeline the hot water spout where he made himself a cup of tea. I on the other hand walked around to see what all they had. There was a waffle maker, bagels, muffins, English muffins and 6 different types of colorful cereals. I grabbed a blueberry muffin and a hot chocolate and sat down across from my father at one of the little tables. We enjoyed our breakfast in silence until a large and jovial man came up beside us.

"Mr. Holmes!" He boomed. "I am so glad that we could have you stay with us!" He turned to look at me, his eyes growing large. "This can't be baby Alexandria?" He asked looking me over. "Why she has gotten so big, and very pretty." He said. I smiled at him politely.

"Yes, this is my little Alexandria. She has definitely grown older since the last time we were here." He replied, taking another drink of his tea. "The tea is still rubbish however."

The big man boomed in laughter. "I'm sorry that our tea selection does not suit your fancy. Not quite as elegant as it is in England I'm afraid. Well, I'd better be off. I'm very glad that we were able to have you here with us. Do come back anytime." He said and with that he walked out of the little room.

I looked at my father with a questioning gaze. He nodded. "That was Mr. Miller." He told me, "Back when you were little I was able to get him off of a murder charge. He let us build the bolt hole in return." I nodded and then continued to eat. I had read about his having bolt holes on Dr. Watson's blog, and I knew that him saving someone from a faulty charge was not at all surprising. After I had finished two bowls of colorful cereal that my mother never would have let me have, and a blueberry muffin I was finally full. I looked up to see my father staring at me again with an unreadable expression.

"Finished?" He asked me quietly. I nodded. "Alright, well we need to leave here in about 2 hours, so we best go back and pack up the rest of your items." He told me as he stood up to leave. We left the little breakfast room and headed back to the bolt hole.

4 hours later we sat in the large waiting area of the Atlantic City International Airport in New Jersey. All of our bags had been checked, including Dolly. My father has assured me that she would be safe. We sat staring out the window waiting for our 4:15 flight to come in.

When it finally arrived, we boarded the plane and sat in our first class seats, mine by the window. I watched in amazement as we lifted off and then flew over the ocean, heading for my new life in London.


	10. Chapter 10: Hello, London

Chapter 10: Hello, London

I'm not sure when I had fallen asleep, but the sky was still dark when we landed in London. I woke up when my father had picked me up out of my seat and carried me off of the plane. I pretended to still be asleep and watched the busy London airport from over his shoulder. He carried me through the airport to the baggage claim, setting me down when we reached the desk behind which we would receive Dolly from.

When Dolly was safely back in my arms we walked over to the baggage carousel and I picked up my pink backpack and he picked up the other luggage. We then walked out of the airport and got into a cab.

"221B Baker Street." He told the cabbie. I watched in amazement as we passed through the dark streets of London. It was strange as we drove on the wrong side of the road, taking street after busy street. Finally the cab stopped outside of a café with a red awning. We got out and walked up to the black door to the left of the café. The knocker was hanging crooked below the gold writing of 221B. My father grabbed our bags and walked into the flat, me trialing behind. I followed him up the stairs and into a dark and dusty cluttered living room. He sat down our bags just inside the door and took off his jacket and scarf, hanging them up on the coat rack next to the door. I let him take mine as well, not paying much attention to what he was saying as I took in the flat.

I turned to the right of the door, taking in the green wall and the oddly patterned wall which it turned into. In the corner there was a skull painting with a strange 3D look to it. It kind of gave me the creeps as I felt like it was watching me as I walked through the room. Further down the wall there was a painted yellow smiley face with bullet holes in it, marking the eyes and the mouth. I looked to my father with a question in my eyes. He shrugged. "I was bored." He said nonchalantly and then sat down in an arm chair. My eyes widened as I inspected the wall some more. My mother would have been furious with me if I had tried something such as this. Over the summer I had painted my walls and she was furious. At least I'd never purposefully made holes. I felt a pang as I thought about my mother but pushed it down to continue my observation.

Below the smiley face there was a well-worn couch with mismatched throw pillows and a coffee table covered in scrapes and papers. Next to that there sat an ancient wooden trunk covered with books and papers. To the left of that there sat a music stand. I walked over to the music stand and ran my hand across the papers, noticing how complex the piece was. Behind the music stand there was a book shelf with a window next to it. I looked out the window to the just waking street below and then my attention was captured by some kind of animal skull hanging upon the green wall in between the windows. It had large horns and was wearing headphones. I shrugged and examined the table covered with glass pieces, books and more papers. The other wall also had odd wallpaper, one which was red and did not match the other ones. This wall was mainly covered with two large bookcases surrounding a fireplace upon which a skull sat.

In front of the fireplace were the two arm chairs, one of which my father was occupying as he watched my saunter around the room. I walked over to one of the bookcases and observed a case which held 15 different bullets and their casings, each of which were listed with their names below. To the left of the bookcase was the adjoining kitchen. I let my eyes rest on the overcrowded table that looked more like my science lab at school than a kitchen table, and the sink which was over flowing with dishes.

I sat down in the chair across from my father and sat there thinking. This flat was nothing at all like my old home back in New York. For some reason this actually excited me rather than upset me. I rather enjoyed the oddness of it. Even the skull painting had begun to grow on me during my observations. I looked at my father who had been watching me the whole time and motioned to the skull on the fireplace. "That's a real one, isn't it." It wasn't really a question. We had been able to look at fake ones at my last school, but that one didn't have the fake seam running down the center.

"Yes. It's real." My father told me. "Don't be surprised to find all kinds of odd things around here." I nodded. I could already tell that he didn't usually have children in this place, unless you counted him himself. I stood up once again and walked into the kitchen, my father followed close behind me. I looked at the odd chemistry set which appeared to have been left in mid experiment. I reached out to touch a beaker full of a green substance and quickly my hand was stopped by the long bony hand of my father. "Don't touch that." He told me quickly and then began to fiddle with some of the equipment on the table.

I walked over to the fridge and opened it. There were old Chinese food boxes, a container of spoiled milk and a jar of what looked like fingers. I quickly shut the door and started to open the cupboards. "Looking for anything in particular?" My father asked me.

"No. Not really." I said. "Well… actually I am kinda hungry." I watched as a look of exasperation crossed his face.

"Children eat a lot." He muttered to himself looking at the clock. It was just now 7 in the morning. "Mrs. Hudson should be up soon. I'm sure that she will have something you can eat." I started to tell him that we needed food here as well, but before I could, I heard a tiny and pitiful "mew".

"Dolly!" I gasped and ran over to her crate, pulling her out. "Oh, I'm sorry Dolly for leaving you in there for so long." I looked around quickly. "Uh… did you bring the litter box?" I asked.

My dad stuck his head out of the kitchen. "No. That was part of your stuff." He told me.

I shook my head. "No. Mum always brought that stuff." I sighed and hugged Dolly tightly. I didn't want to think about mum. She had left me. And even though I was doing okay thus far, I did not want to think about her at all right now.

Sherlock looked around and sighed. He pulled out his phone and typed a text message then went back into the kitchen and started messing with his experiment again. I held Dolly in my arms and watched as he took a pipette full of the green liquid and poured it into a small test tube containing a white mixture. The solution bubbled up and turned blue. I was quite amazed to see that and wondered what it was that he was experimenting on when there was a knock at the door.


	11. Chapter 11: Landlady, Not Babysitter

Chapter 11: Landlady, Not Babysitter

"Good morning, Sherlock, How was your trip?" A lady's voice reached us before she had opened the door. In walked a woman who appeared to be in her 50's wearing a long blue dress. She had short strawberry blonde hair and looked very kind. I knew at once that she must be Mrs. Hudson. She froze when she saw me.

"Why hello there dear, I didn't expect Sherlock to have company this early." She told me with a smile. "On a case so quick after your trip, dear?" She asked my father as she placed the tea tray complete with biscuits on top of the stacks of paper on the coffee table.

My father walked out and picked up a cup of tea. "Mrs. Hudson, I want you to meet Alexandria. She is not here for a case, she is actually my daughter." He said simply, taking a sip of his tea.

Mrs. Hudson stood there in shock for a minute and then began laughing uncontrollably. My father looked on with disgust and then pressed a cup of tea and a biscuit into my hand. "Here you go." He said. "She'll calm down in a minute or so." And with that he walked back into the kitchen, leaving me with his hysterically laughing landlady.

I stood there just staring at her. I wasn't sure what was so funny. I mean, I knew that Sherlock Holmes having a daughter must have been a surprise, but I failed to see how that would be funny. My father was right of course. Roughly 90 seconds after her laughter began she wiped away a tear and looked at me, calming down.

"Are you being serious?" She asked. My father who was still in the kitchen did not respond. I nodded my head in answer to her question. She looked me over closely. "Oh, child." She said and pulled me into a hug. "I'm Mrs. Hudson. I'm the landlady here." She smiled at me. "I suppose you do really look like him. You have his same wavy hair, and his eyes." Her eyes twinkled as she said this. Just then there was a noise from down stairs. "Oh dear." She said. "It sounds like there is someone at the door." And with that she hurried off down the stairs.

I walked over to the couch and sat down, eating two of the biscuits and drinking the tea. To most children from New York this would be considered an odd breakfast, however I was not most children. The biscuits were much better than my mother had ever made. After a few minutes Mrs. Hudson came up with a bag and placed it inside. "Wiggins brought this hear for you dear." She called out and then turned to smile at me. She walked into the kitchen for a minute and I heard her tell my dad that they needed to talk. She then went back down stairs and I walked over to examine the bag.

It had all of my cat items in it. I lugged the bag into the bathroom and set Dolly down while I got the litter box ready. I had to push a pile of clothes out of the way in order to find a space for it. The bathroom was quite messy as well, but not dirty. It simply had papers and clothes strewn about. After dealing with the litter box I found my way into the kitchen to set up a food and water bowl for Dolly. I was surprised to see that my father was no longer messing with his experiment and I looked it over closely in his absence. I had done experiments before, but it was always with normal household items. I had no idea what these substances were, but some of them smelled really bad. I walked back into the living room, took another biscuit and walked out the door and sat down on the stairs, trying to listen to the conversation going on below.

"Sherlock, I do not mind the child being here. My only concern is how you are going to be able to take care of her. You can barely take care of yourself!" I heard Mrs. Hudson say.

"I don't have a choice in the matter, Irene left. She said that she must go in order to keep Alex safe, and now I must take over to make sure that my daughter remains safe." He said with an air of annoyance.

"That's fine Sherlock. Good even. But I need you to remember. I am your landlady, not your housekeeper or your babysitter. She is your responsibility. Not mine."

"I am well aware of that Mrs. Hudson. Besides, she is clever. She surely won't be that much of a problem." He told her.

They continued to talk but I no longer heard them. I was amazed. My father, the greatest consulting detective of all times, thought I was clever. I laughed and then walked back into the flat and sat down to flip on the telly.


	12. Chapter 12: Something To Do

Chapter 12: Something To Do

I flipped through the channels for some time until I rested on a weird yet interesting show about a man who was called The Doctor and a flying blue box called the TARDIS. It was about Christmas time in London, and it made me rather nervous for the approaching season. I knew better than to believe that Christmas trees really could be turned into weapons of mass destruction, but a part of me almost hoped it to be true. The next episode that came on held my attention so well that I did not notice my father coming back and resuming his experiment in the kitchen. In this episode the doctor was fighting against some robots called cyber men. At one point I screamed, pulling a random jacket over my head, but peeking through the top. I was vaguely aware of my father checking on me before going back into his work.

At 11 o'clock the program changed to something boring so I turned it off and wandered into the kitchen to see what my father was doing. I observed him once again mix a white powdery substance with the green substance and saw him scowl when it bubbled a little less but turned blue once again. I wasn't sure what he was trying to do, but whatever it was he was not happy with it.

I looked out the small window in the kitchen and then turned to my father. "Can I go outside?" I asked him. He stared at me for a moment and then shrugged his shoulders.

"Stay close by." He told me. I quickly ran to the door, pulled on my long red coat and my shoes and ran out down the stairs. I was out the door in a flash and froze as I took in the busy street that was now my new home. There were cabs driving by, on the wrong side of the road again, and men and women waking. I sat down on the steps and just watched the people as they hurried by. Quite a few of them stopped at the small café to my left, many of them leaving just as quickly as they had entered. I even saw one person pass with a TARDIS beanie on his head. After sitting there watching the people for about 10 minutes, I got up and walked over to look into Speedy's café. It was a cold October day and there was not anyone sitting outside at the tables. I sat down at one of them, reading the small paper which was sitting there when a sleek black sedan pulled up in front of my house and a man appeared, swinging his umbrella.

He was about as tall as my father and was wearing a very elegant pin striped black suit. His royal red tie was tucked inside of his vest and a pocket watch chain draped across his front. I could tell that he was rarely without his umbrella and that he was not normally a man for smiling. He was a little pudgy and his face looked as if he had a perpetual scowl. I watched as he walked right up to my door, straightened the knocker, and then knocked it.

Mrs. Hudson answered it and with her cheerful voice exclaimed "Mycroft! Do come in! Have you heard…" and then the door shut behind him and I could hear no more. Mycroft… I had read that name before on John's blog. I just couldn't place where. Then it came to me. Mycroft Holmes. He was my father's brother. He was my uncle. I stood up slowly and walked back to the black door, walking inside. I could hear talking upstairs and so I followed the voices. I stood in front of the door, trying to hear what was being said, when suddenly the door opened and I heard my father say "It's rude to eve's drop."


	13. Chapter 13: Family

Chapter 13: Family

I walked in the door and sat in the chair next to it pouting. He was a detective. Wasn't eve's dropping what they did? My father looked slightly annoyed as he turned his attention back to the packet of papers which he held in his hands. Mycroft, my Uncle, on the other hand kept his gaze fixed on me. I watched as his eyes took in my appearance. I could not however read what he was thinking in that squinting face of his. It made me feel nervous, the way that he was looking me over, and for some reason, feeling nervous made me angry. I'd always wanted a family. This wasn't the way I had expected that it would go down. My father walked slowly to stand by the fireplace, still looking through the papers. I stared into my Uncles eyes and mine narrowed. I saw an expression of bemusement flash across my uncle's face and I lost it.

"Hell-o!" I yelled, stamping my foot. "Aren't you going to say something? Hi? Or anything?" I asked storming over to stand in front of the elder Holmes'. My father briefly glanced up from his papers at me and then returned his gaze. Uncle Mycroft looked to my father eyebrows raised. Both men remained silent. I huffed and stormed over to the beat up couch, throwing myself onto it in a way that my mother would have scolded me for.

"Fine then!" I shouted grumpily. "Don't talk to me. You're probably boring anyway." I huffed again and turned to where my back was facing them and my face was towards the couch cushion.

"Mycroft," I heard my father say. "I'm afraid that I'm much too busy right now to take on this case. Isn't there someone else in your vast pool of government who could handle it?" He said with an air of boredom. I heard him hand the papers back to his brother.

"Brother mine, this is a matter of national security." I heard my Uncle Mycroft speak for the first time. He sounded like he thought he was royalty himself. "I would not be here if I had another option. I agree this may not have happened at an opportune moment," he paused and I could feel his eyes on the back of my neck. "However, I must press you into doing this. If not, then mayhap I will just have to call mummy and let her know about your new house guest you have accommodated. Then you know that you will be chomping at the bit to get away." There was an edge of steel in his voice and I didn't like it.

I sat up, and glowered at the pair. "I'm not a house guest!" I shouted at them. Then something dawned on me. "Mummy?" I said quietly to myself. "Wait. I have a grandma?" I asked my foul mood slowly being replaced with one of excitement.

Sherlock glared at Mycroft for a moment and said "Yes. You have both a grandmum and a granddad. Both of whom have absolutely nothing to do with this case, Mycroft." He said the edge of steel present in his voice as well.

"When do I get to meet them?" I asked. When neither of the men answered me, I asked again. "Hello? I'm standing right here. When do I get to meet them?" When neither of them looked at me still I jumped up on the couch, something which surely would have caught my mother's attention. It did not work however to gain my father or uncles. They were in some kind of quiet battle, fiercely whispering back and forth.

I was mad. I was partially scared. I wanted to know who this new family was, but I didn't want it to be like this. I didn't like being ignored. I looked down at the coffee table and an old raggedy baseball caught my eye. I picked it up; fingering it in my hand then looked at the two men who continued to fight, oblivious of me. I held back my arm and threw the baseball as hard as could towards the fireplace behind the arguing brothers.

I was surprised when my father's hand reached up and caught the ball before it hit the mantle of the fireplace, never looking away from his brother's face. I froze. I saw my father blink, his face going blank. He quietly walked to where I was standing on the couch. I sat down quickly and pressed against the back of the couch, not knowing what to expect.

He placed the baseball down gently in the spot which I had retrieved it from. I stared at him in agonizing silence, wishing he would say something, but also afraid of what he would say. Instead he turned around and faced my uncle again.

Mycroft glanced at me and then back to his younger brother, sighed and picked up the packet of papers from where they had been deposited on a table. "Call me if you change your mind about the case." He said, walking to the door with his long black umbrella in hand. He opened the door and stepped out, looking back just long enough to say "Good luck, brother mine," before he shut the door behind him.

And then it was silent. It was once again only my father and I. I knew I had been behaving horribly. I knew my mother would have been furious. I knew that I deserved every punishment in the book. But this mysterious man, my father, I knew very little of. I had no idea what to expect.

I felt like the silence lasted forever. I wondered if he would ever talk to me again. I wrestled with whether I wanted him to talk to me or not.

Finally I couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't take him looking at me, looking at me as if I was some case of his. I couldn't handle not knowing when I would see my mother again. I couldn't handle that she had left with me a strange man, blood relative or not. I couldn't handle that when I had finally met family, it hadn't been like in the movies. I couldn't handle that I was stuck here with this un-talking, staring man. I jumped off of the couch and made a run for the door. He must have known what I was going to do though as he beat me there.

"Alex," He said, reaching out for my arm.

"Don't touch me!" I screamed at him and ran down the hall to the bedroom, jumped on the messy bed and hid under the covers. "I want my mom!" I yelled again and broke into a sob. I cried and cried until I had fallen asleep.


	14. Chapter 14: On Top of the World

**Author Note: **

**Thanks so much for reading my story! Please do leave me a review and let me know what you enjoyed and didn't. I am always looking for new ways to better my writing. I have decided to end this story here, however not to worry. Alex shall return in a new story in which I feel I can now comfortably write in a better manner. I struggled with ending this story some, however I have decided that it is not really an ending, just an ending to the and introduction of how Alex came to live with Sherlock Holmes.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the BBC Sherlock Characters. I do however own Alex.**

Chapter 14: On Top of the World

When I awoke, the sun was going down. The soft glow of twilight which shined through the window made the messy room look almost eerie. I wondered absentmindedly what time it was. It was quite odd to wake up in the evening. I sat up and stretched, yawning, as I looked around the room. This room also had odd wall paper matched with green paint. Above the bed there was a picture of some sort covered in Chinese. I stood up on the bed and looked at it closely. Whatever it was, it looked important. I turned around and looked at the small bookcase which was cluttered with books and papers. Hanging on the oddly colored green wall was a sword. I peered at the plaque seeing that it was from First Place at the Camford sports society in 1996. Across the room by the door there was a periodic table. I climbed off of the sleigh bed, the sheets in disarray and walked towards the door when I heard muffled voices. I listened closely, trying to hear what they were saying, but I was unable to. From my quick view of the clutter I knew that there were no cups in the room which meant I would have to open the door. I reached for the doorknob and slowly turned it, pulling open the door ever so quietly. I stuck my ear to the crack.

"Feel better now, Alex?" I heard my father call out and I knew that I had been spotted. I stood there for a moment, trying to decide if I wanted to go out and face my father or stay in here hiding. I had just decided to crawl back into bed when I heard my father again, only this time he spoke quicker. "No. No. Stay. She needs to meet you anyways."

That peaked my curiosity and I turned, opening the door just enough to peek out of it. I pressed my face against the opening and tried to see who else was in the house. All I could see however was Sherlock standing in the kitchen, beckoning me with one of his long fingers. "Come on out here Alex." He told me. "I've someone I want you to meet."

I opened up the door slowly and walked cautiously down the hallway, through the kitchen, and stopped in entrance to the living room. There sitting in the chair opposite my father's was a man. He was wearing a dark blue sweater and had short dirty blonde hair in a military cut. I knew in an instant that this must be my father's blogger, Dr. John Watson. He looked at me and smiled the kind of smile that only someone who is truly happy to see you can give. I instantly felt comfortable.

"Alex, this is my friend John. John, this is my daughter, Alexandria." My father said and then shot John a look that I could instantly tell meant 'Are you happy now?' I stood in the entrance of the kitchen and smiled shyly at John.

"Hi." I told him with a small wave. "I like your blog." A look of surprise passed across his face and my father scoffed. He started mumbling about how everyone seemed to like John's little blog, but no one ever commented on his website.

I chose to ignore him and focus on John however who had a look of surprise on his face. "You read my blog?" He asked me, his eyebrows furrowed. "How old are you?"

"I'm 8." I told him smiling even more. "I've been told I act older though. Must be because I'm clever." I was very proud of this fact and that pride emitted on my face.

John shook his head. "An 8 year old, reading my blog. Maybe I need to be more careful about what I put up on there." He stood up from the chair and walked over to me and smiled and shook his head once again. "You truly are Sherlock's daughter, no matter how mind-boggling it may seem, you are the spitting image of him." He held his hand out to me. "You can call me Uncle John." He said. When I took his hand he pulled me into a hug and whispered in my ear "This is all new to Sherlock. He'll come around, give him time. And in the meantime, I'm only a phone call away." He held me out at arm length, looking me over in a doctoral manner.

"Sherlock, have you been feeding this child? She is awfully skinny." He said turning to speak to my father who had resumed his normal position of knees under his chin and hands steepled. He opened one eye and looked at John. "Mrs. Hudson brought biscuits up this morning." Then he closed his eye again.

"Sherlock." John said exasperated. "Children have to eat at least three times a day." My father opened up he eyes again and rolled them.

"She had the opportunity to have lunch. Mrs. Hudson brought her up a tuna sandwich and some crisps, but she was asleep." He once again closed his eyes.

John looked back at me. "I bet you're famished." He told me. I nodded. "Okay. Alright. I'd say it's time we all go out to dinner. Mary and Emma would love to meet you." He pulled out his phone and typed in a number, holding it up to his ear he turned to my father. "Sherlock, we are ALL going out to dinner. You two need to go get ready." He said in a voice that can only be described as paternal. My father and I sighed at the same time and then looked at each other in surprise. Uncle John laughed and then spoke into the phone. "Mary, we are going to dinner…"

In 45 minutes we found ourselves seated at a table at Tapas Brindisa Soho Restaurant. I listened with fascination as Uncle John told about the first time he had eaten here with my father, during their first case. I sat in between in my father and another young girl who had been introduced to me as my cousin Emma. She was two years younger than me and looked just like my Aunt Mary who sat in between Emma and Uncle John. I had never before had so much family. I couldn't help but smile.

When our drinks came my father ripped off the top paper of his straw and blew on it, hitting me with the wrapper. I looked at him in surprise and laughed when I saw the sparkle in his eyes. I ripped off the top of my straw and tried to do the same. When I couldn't, Sherlock asked the waiter for more straws as he taught Emma and I how to shoot the paper off of them. I heard Uncle John tell Aunt Mary "Why do I feel like we have 3 children now?"

She kissed him on the cheek and said "Admit it, you are enjoying this."

She laughed when he said "Yeah. I really am."

That night I went to sleep in Sherlock's bed, him saying that he would sleep on the couch. I was so happy. It was strange. For the first time I felt complete. Well, almost. I still wished that my mother was there, but I was strangely okay with her disappearance. Sherlock had told me that she was safe, and I trusted him. I thought about how mum would have liked that dinner. She never would have let me shoot straw wrappers at a restaurant. Suddenly I realized why my mum had left me with Sherlock. She said that it was to keep me safe, and maybe it was. But maybe, just maybe, it was also because she knew that I needed a dad. I knew that night that no matter how cold Sherlock may appear at times he was just that. Not just a father. Not just some distant figure, picture on a computer screen or scribbled initials on a piece of paper. He was my dad. Not just that even though, he was my daddy. For once in my life, I had a daddy. I, Alexandria Hamish Holmes, was the detective's daughter. I fell asleep in my new home on Baker street, London, feeling on top of the world.


End file.
